True story: Meeting James by melanieatplay. A college girl meets an older man in Las Vegas. My friend and I pulled up at valet parking in the front of the Paris hotel in Las Vegas. It was a warm spring evening and the sun had just begun to set behind the mountains.
True story: Meeting James – Chapter 1
by melanieatplay
Genres: True Story, Consensual Sex, Mature, Written by women
The air smelled fresh and clean, an anomaly for the strip I thought. I smiled to myself when I noticed the valet sneaking a peek at my legs when I extended them and stepped out of Sue’s car. Maybe this would be a good night after all.
She smiled radiantly at me as I watched her walk around her car while hearing to her high heels click on the ceramic pavers as she joined me.
“Don’t worry,” she said, as she adjusted her short, red halter, cocktail dress, “I promise you’ll have a good time tonight.”
I forced the best smile I could, all the while thinking that I should be back at my apartment finishing my finance paper, or at the very least, studying for midterm exams which were next week. Instead of using the weekend to focus on academics, I had instead chose to max out my credit cards on a sleeveless, black lace, cocktail dress and black, Prada pumps, because I didn’t have any formal clothes that I could wear to an event like this.
I dreaded the thought of calling my parents again and asking for the money that this evening was costing me. Even though the dress was a little short due to my 5’8” height, the deep black was the perfect contrast to my long blonde hair. Hell, this dress is worth every penny.
For the better part of a year, Sue had been trying to convince me to accompany her to these black-tie charity fundraisers that were held twice a year at the Paris. It always surprised me that she got invitations through her work, because these events were fairly exclusive. I had spent the last several months listening to her rave about the last one she had attended, and she finally wore me down and I agreed to go with her.
Sue grabbed my hand and pulled me into the casino which temporarily put my academic concerns and financial woes out of my mind. While walking through the main casino floor, I was immediately mesmerized by the myriad of flashing lights and sounds of the slot machines. I could feel the energy in the room as the various gamblers tried their luck at the blackjack and craps tables.
Tonight seemed different though, maybe it was just me, but was everyone looking at us as we walked through the room? The hungry eyes on us reminded me how much I loved dressing up and showing off a bit.
We arrived at the door and Sue gave her invitations to the door man and we walked into the vast ballroom. I was shocked to see a full orchestra playing a catchy tune from the… I don’t know… 1950’s maybe? I had always loved jazz music so maybe this evening wouldn’t be too bad after all. If nothing else, it was going to be different than the dance clubs on the strip that I usually frequented.
“Get some drinks and I’ll find a table,” Sue said.
Walking to the bar, I admired the extravagantly decorated room and I couldn’t help but think that someone really went all out. Crystal chandeliers, crown molding, enormous flower arrangements on every table, beautiful silver flatware, and opulent white linen tablecloths. I started to feel a bit under-dressed for the occasion.
“Two Hypnotiq’s please,” I said, smiling sweetly at the bar tender.
He instantly turned around and began pouring the drinks. I nonchalantly slid my fake I.D. back in my purse, happy he didn’t question my age.
While waiting for the drinks, I scanned the room again, admiring the beautiful dresses that some of the women were wearing and noticed that more of the older women chose longer, more formal evening gowns, while women my age opted for the shorter cocktail dress. It must be a generational thing. However, I loved how their more formal attire added to the feeling of the exclusivity of the event. It was fun to pretend I was royalty, or maybe a Hollywood starlet, if only for the evening.
I was suddenly snapped out of my daze by a short, chubby, balding man who seemed to almost miraculously appear in front of me.
“I’m not Fred Flintstone, but I can make your bed rock!” he exclaimed proudly.
My jaw dropped. Did he really just say that? I wasn’t sure if I was more embarrassed for myself or for him. I tried to move my lips to form some sort of retort, but no words came out.
He broke my stunned silence by saying, “Do you work for UPS? I could have sworn I saw you checking out my package.”
I could feel myself going from shocked, to embarrassed and then to mad.
I started to say something clever like, “Did you come here with friends or are you the only thirty-five year old virgin here tonight,” when I felt a hand rest on the small of my back.
I turned and looked into the deepest blue eyes I had ever seen.
“Are our drinks ready yet honey?” he asked smoothly, giving me a soft kiss on the cheek.
My knees instantly went weak.
I barely noticed Mr. Cheesy-Pick-Up-Line’s look of disappointment as he skulked away.
My rescuer looked perplexed by my choice of cocktails as he slid his credit card to the bar tender.
“It’s Hypnotiq,” I replied, answering his unasked question, “and thank you,” I added.
He smiled softly at me.
“You looked like you could use the help”.
I returned his smile, peering again into those deep blue eyes. The mix of gray and black hair gave his age away. Maybe 50 I thought to myself. He was wearing a black designer suit that fit him impeccably. And he was tall, six foot three I guessed, just a bit taller than me in these heels. He had a ruggedly handsome face that seemed to encompass a ‘boyish good looks’ quality.
Maybe at one time, perhaps in his youth, the title of pretty boy would have fitted him perfectly, but the years had turned his boyishly handsome face into the look of a distinguished older man.
“I’m James,” he said, as the bartender slid his credit card back to him, “and my fee for one rescue is a dance.”
I smiled warmly at him and took his extended hand. He led me to the dance floor and almost effortlessly, I found myself securely in his arms.
For the first time in my life I was happy that my parents had forced me to take ballroom dance lessons during my junior year of high school, a month before my oldest brother’s wedding.
In the clubs that I frequented, the dancing was more of a bump and grind, pre-mating ritual, but this was formal and elegant, and he danced magnificently.
I told him that my name was Melanie and I was a sophomore at UNLV working towards my accounting degree. We also discovered that we were from the same part of Southern California.
I told him that I had moved to Las Vegas to go to college and get away from my parents (a much longer and messy story) and he told me he was in town checking up on his businesses. As we learned more about each other, he told me that he owned about thirty restaurants in the Los Angeles and Las Vegas areas and he was in town frequently to “put out fires,” as he described it.
When the orchestra ended the song, he asked me back to his table so we could finish our drinks. I knew I should decline, but he intrigued me. I was struggling to put my finger on it, but couldn’t. I felt drawn to him and didn’t know why.
Seeing that Sue was deep in conversation with a handsome man, who appeared to be about our age, I accepted his offer.
I felt his eyes on me as I walked in front of him to his table, and for the first time since we had arrived, I felt self conscious. I was used to wearing revealing club attire; short, low cut dresses and skirts that showed acres of skin and put a lot on display. However, in this haughty environment, my little black dress definitely had me out of my comfort zone, especially when the older women had chosen more formal evening wear. Regardless, I didn’t want to appear uncomfortable, especially to him.
When we got to his table he smiled and told me not to go anywhere. I watched him walk across the room towards the bar to get fresh drinks. He moved effortlessly, confidently liked he owned the room.
We spent the next several hours talking, dancing, and drinking. I loved his business background, and all the theories I was learning in my classes, he was putting into practice in his restaurants. We talked about management concepts, marketing schemes, and tax dodges. Not exactly topics reminiscent of sexual foreplay, but I found him enthralling. He seemed to know a little about everything and he talked to me like an adult, something that very few people in my nineteen years had done. Being around him was intoxicating and I stopped listening to that little voice that had told me to be careful.
It was a little past midnight. About an hour earlier, Sue had grudgingly gone home. I reassured her repeatedly that I was all right, and she knew I could take care of myself. James made me feel comfortable and at ease. In truth, I just didn’t want this perfect evening to end.
The dance floor was packed and the drinks continued to flow and I felt wired. The drinking and dancing were having an effect on me. I wasn’t sure what got my heart racing faster, his hand on my thigh as we talked, or the scent of his cologne as we danced. I was mesmerized by him and when he asked me to join him in his suite, I just couldn’t find a way to tell him no.
While we rode up the elevator to the top floor of the Paris, I thought I was going to lose my balance because of my knees knocking together. Exhilaration and trepidation, those were the two main themes of the evening.
I had never done this type of thing before, not with a man anyway. Jump into bed with a guy after only knowing him for a couple of hours? That wasn’t me. When I chose to be intimate with a guy, he was always my boyfriend and I made him work for it and put in the time. This just wasn’t me. And what about his age? God, I can’t even start to think about that. But it’s happening…
He used his key card to unlock the door to his suite. He held the door open for me and I stepped inside. The great room was large and expansive and it appeared to be bigger than the entire apartment that I shared with my roommate. The suite was elegantly appointed in a Parisian theme, and the Eiffel Tower and the millions of lights on the Las Vegas strip lit up the room. While I was enjoying the stunning view outside our window, I felt him move behind me.
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